


Semantics

by cualacino



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fights, Gen, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-18
Updated: 2011-07-18
Packaged: 2017-10-21 12:27:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cualacino/pseuds/cualacino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lithuania and Prussia have never really gotten along, and living under the same roof doesn't help to ease the tension any, especially behind the Iron Curtain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Semantics

_Whore_ is it.

The bastard doesn’t even have the decency to speak Lithuanian, just snarks offhandedly in Russian, smoking his damn cigarettes (and Lithuania hasn’t even had a cigarette in God knows how long despite the fact that he really _really_ needs one.)

Lithuania turns, ignoring the mud the Prussian tracked all the way up the front hall and into the kitchen.

“Oh, of course.” His voice is calm, as usual. “ _I_ am the whore here.”

Prussia stares at him. “Well, _yeah_. I mean, when was the last time you were independent? 1200s? And then what with the Russian Empire and the _other_ Russian Empire, and Russia’s fetish for the Baltic Sea, you’re trying to tell me that he hasn’t banged you?” Prussia grinds his cigarette into the counter, and Lithuania flinches like that counter was his arm. (Which it might as well have been, considering how much time he’s put into cleaning it.)

“I mean,” Prussia walks up to Lithuania leisurely, rooting through his pockets for his smokes, “you gotta keep warm somehow in this place.” He lights the cigarette inches away from Lithuania’s face and blows smoke upwards. “Am I right?”

Lithuania punches Prussia to the floor. The cigarette bounces out of Prussia’s fingers and skitters across the tiles.

“But all those friendship pacts between the USSR and GDR,” Lithuania hisses, seriously considering slamming his foot into Prussia’s prone stomach. “You’re trying to me that those weren’t glorified prostitution contracts?”

Prussia spits out pink.

“ _I’m_ not part of Russia’s harem.” He runs his tongue over his split lip. “ _I’m_ a sovereign state.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Lithuania purrs.

Prussia rises to his feet slowly.

“Lithuania, I get it, I get it, really.” He smiles, all the way from his pointy cheekbones to his scab red eyes. “I mean if I was Poland’s bitch for as long as you were, I’d reach for the manliest thing around too. But I think my standards would be a little higher than a man-child.”

“Prussia...”

“Nah, I mean, this is Eastern Europe -- the best domestic abuse household in the world!” Prussia glances around idly for his cigarette. “There’s one figure who’s the father and then everyone else sort of rotates between the wife, the child and the pet!”

Lithuania wonders how long it would take to strangle someone.

“Now then...” Prussia murmurs.

His thoughts -- _it wouldn’t take more than a few minutes, no more than ten if I applied the pressure right he’d lose consciousness in less than that_ \-- are interrupted by the _click hiss_ of a lighter.

“Which one would you be?”

Prussia pushes Lithuania gently. “Well? Latvia’s the kid, unless Russia’s kinkier than I thought.” Another push, rougher. Lithuania’s hip cracks off the burned counter. “But does Russia want a wife to fuck or an animal?”

They’re on the ground again, with Lithuania crouching over Prussia’s midsection, his tie wrapped garrote-style around his hands. Prussia holds Lithuania’s forearms inches away from his throat, just holds them there, trembling with that frenzied _I’ve got nothing to loose_ grin.

Prussia rolls over, shoving Lithuania just enough to make the Baltic’s head crack off the floor. Then Lithuania’s garrote is against his own neck, pinned by Prussia’s grip.

God this is pathetic.

They are both underfed and over-purged. They both have more of the Soviet Union in them than they’d really like, but who has _more_ , that’s the question.

The tie cuts into skin as Prussia presses down on Lithuania’s hands muttering the same old ethnic slurs. Lithuania knees him in the stomach once twice _three times oh fuck get the fuck off of me_. Prussia coughs and moves to the side. Lithuania gropes around on the counter, keeping his eyes on the blond below him, finds the edge of something cold and hard and shatters a plate across Prussia’s temple. He does kick Prussia this time, sending the man sprawling into the baseboard.

“ _Shit._ ” Prussia presses against the wall, dragging bloody finger smears up the off-white plaster. “I think I tasted a little Commonwealth that time.”

Lithuania coughs and exhales a couple breaths of stale air before: “Oh, Prussia, you were Poland’s bitch too, don’t you remember? Around 1466?”

It takes a few moments for Lithuania to realize quite what had happened, but by the time his eyes refocus he determines he has been punched and is gripping the counter for support as Prussia stands over him. Prussia’s shouting something, screaming it from the look of things, but Lithuania’s ears are ringing too loudly for him to hear.

As Lithuania’s ears keen, Prussia grips his shirt front and shoves him against the cabinet. The kitchen, old and fragile, rattles like it’s going to shatter all over them. Another fist makes Lithuania’s head slam into the cabinet door, and another and another until there’s a wet smacking rhythm of knuckles on already loose, submissive flesh. The piercing whine in Lithuania’s head dulls momentarily and he catches a sliver of words -- “just a whore” -- before he slides down and there’s a hand at the back of his neck and whispered pleads of _no Prussia wait_ and then

white.

His head slams into the edge of the counter; the pain is colorless, _hot_ and _dull_ and _everywhere_.

Lithuania reels, collapses. There is a thump -- Prussia’s _boot_ \-- at his abdomen that makes him convulse and puke blood, but everything seems bleached and faded.

 _throbbing_ and _pulsing_ and _unrelenting_.

Prussia twists his fingers into Lithuania’s hair, bloody and sticky, and pulls him up. There’s another cigarette in Prussia’s mouth, and Lithuania wonders how many packs the bastard has, that he can just waste the things like that.

“You listening, slav?”

“Yes.”

“We’ve never really gotten along, I know, but as long as we’re stuck in this shithole together, we might as well take it easy, yeah?”

“You started it, kraut.”

“And I’ll finish it if I have to, _whore_.”

Lithuania spits some blood off to the side.

Prussia sighs.

“But I’m willing to let it go. Extend an olive branch of sorts.” He takes out a cigarette and dangles it tantalizingly close from nicotine-stained fingers. “This is the only one I have left so you better make it last.” Lithuania lurches forward to accept it, winces slightly as Prussia pushes it in through his broken lips.

There’s a quiet, almost-but-not-quite gentle moment as Lithuania cups his hands around the end and Prussia flicks the lighter. Their fingers bump and brush, they pretend not to notice.

The smell of naphtha masks the reek of blood for a moment, but lighter’s dead. Prussia hisses a swear, grips Lithuania’s jaw, pulls him close. The brush of their cigarette ends together is vaguely, oddly intimate as they blow gentle breaths until the paper catches.

But everything is washed away in the biting haze of tobacco; Lithuania breathes in long and deep and coughs out a spray of smoke and crimson. Prussia watches him for a moment until Lithuania’s eyes flicker up, mistrustful.

“So tell me, comrade,” Prussia takes a shallow gasp, like there’s too much smoke in his lungs and not enough air, “is his mattress comfy?”

Lithuania doesn’t bother to clean up, just huddles against the cupboard and sucks down smog, and that’s how Russia finds him.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally from the Hetalia Kink Meme.
> 
> \-- This isn't supposed to take place at any particular time; it could take place anywhere from the 1950s to 1980s, basically.  
> \-- "when was the last time you were independent? 1200s?" - Actually, the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth began in the 1500s and Lithuania really lost its independence in the 1700s when it was partitioned by Russia, Prussia and Austria.  
> \-- The "other Russian Empire" is the Soviet Union.  
> \-- Russia did have a thing for the Baltic sea, seeing it as a strategic place for ports, trading, a footpath to Eastern Europe.  
> \-- The German Democratic Republic was never technically Soviet state, but the GDR was far from independent, as it was extremely reliant on the Soviet Union, and it was really Communist despite the name.  
> \-- Part of Prussia was ruled by Poland in 1466, when Poland and the Prussian Commonwealth drew up the Treaty of Thorn to end the Thirteen Years War. All that's relevant here is that the treaty stated that part of Prussia (called Royal Prussia) belonged to Poland from the mid 1500s to the late 1700s.  
> \-- Naptha is a gas that was used in lighters. It was replaced in favor of butane in the 1950s, but for the sake of the fill I had Prussia use naptha since it has a stronger smell.


End file.
